These are just some
of my least
favourite things.
Big Chinese spoons
that spill soup
down my chin.
Two holes for recycling
that go in
the same bin.
Volume controls
that don't do
what they should.
When I step in
a poo,
when I thought
it was mud.
Concrete
soul-prisons,
which I wish
could be brick.
When I must be
polite,
when I think
you're a...
moron.
Two hours to go,
with the onset
of boredom.
Walking
and txting
and stepping
in sick.
Second-hand goods,
which should
have a cord on.
Big dogs
in front gardens
(some owners are thick!).
When my watch
rubs the hairs
on the side
of my wrist.
Having to clean
when there's folks
who made robots.
Ruling supreme, but
still feeling
like no-one.
Laziness,
apathy,
procrastination -
that means
every morning
I run
to the station.
People who push
into queues
for the train.
When people
curse sunshine
and then curse
the rain.
Groups who walk slowly,
the breadth of the street.
I want to stick
drawing pins
into their feet.
Things I won't kill,
but can fly
and can hurt me.
The impulse to kill
that can make me
feel guilty.
Kids who forgot
about Burt,
about Ernie,
about Egon Spengler
and Penfold
(THAT hurts me!!!)
My favourite
auld trainers,
at the end
of their life!
How to
dispose of
an old rusty knife?
Putting my fingers
through cheap
toilet paper.
Never doing
stuff now...
then not doing it
later.
Laughing and making
the noise of a pig.
Things that are small
that should really
be big.
When I get
pins and needles
and my foot
starts to float.
Scraping
dried food,
that's not mine,
off my coat.
A kid at the zoo, who
just wants to see goats.
You smokers think
maybe
you can waft all
the smoke
away from my eyes
and my nose
and my throat.
When elderly people
don't know
they're half deaf,
yet they hear
every word
like the wind's
wispy breath.
When the tock-ticking
clock
keeps me awake,
but it's troublesome
moving it
further away.
Toddlers with shoes
that go squeak when
they step.
The annual boil
that engulfs
half my neck.
Having to stare
at a strip
of material
stretched to it's limit
round a stomach
that's spherical.
The grossness
of treading
on slugs
when they pop.
The big sniff
that gives me
a mouthful of snot.
Plug-hair
paranoia
that my hairline's
grown thin.
A civilisation
of flies in my bin.
Big spiders.
Pop Idol.
Having to sing.
These are just some
of my least
favourite things.
